The ceremonial robes of the Chunsheng Emperor were all newly designed styles. Shen Zechuan wore white. The Ministry of Imperial Attire specifically put effort into the patterns to display the emperor’s might. Shen Zechuan was to wear pearl earrings and ear pendants on his right ear; when to wear what style depended entirely on his mood. The Ministry of Imperial Attire had practically pulled out all their hair and kept circling behind Prince Qianjun Xiao Chiye, yet still couldn’t figure out any pattern.
Shen Zechuan liked to twirl a folding fan. That fan was very particular—specially provided by Xiao Chiye, the only one in the world, with no duplicates, just like the ear ornaments.
At this moment, people were coming in and out of the hall. Xiao Chiye lounged in a reclining chair under the eaves, legs stretched out on the ground, even blocking the way.
“The account books from last year have all been truthfully submitted to the Ministry of Revenue,” Chen Yang reported to Xiao Chiye from the side, “The newly established Five Armies are in a remote area near Desert Three Rivers, and expenses for supplies and grain are higher than others. This…”
Xiao Chiye glanced through the accounts and said, “The military craftsmen weren’t relocated there. The transport and repair costs were already estimated once last autumn by Liang Guanshan. These silver amounts are more than double, aren’t they?”
Inside the hall, Shen Zechuan was putting on his crown. The hanging beads of the streamers lightly clinked, and the palace maids moved carefully, not daring to overstep.
Xiao Chiye watched for a long while without looking away, then handed the account book back to Chen Yang.
Overbudget military spending was normal in wartime, but now the Mongduo tribe at the gate of Desert Three Rivers was like the Great Jin’s desert ship; using trade convenience, the transport costs for supplies should not be this high. These accounts could fool others, but they absolutely could not fool Xiao Chiye. When he had struggled along the grain routes of Lubei, the one checking the accounts above him was Xiao Fuxiang.
“Have the Five Armies’ commander disarm and enter the capital,” Xiao Chiye said, “Bring him to me to settle accounts.”
Chen Yang solemnly accepted the order and withdrew after bowing.
An old matron came to the side of the reclining chair and said half-coaxing, half-urging, “Second Master, it’s time.”
The chair under Xiao Chiye swayed slightly. He raised a finger, signaling her to be quiet, studying Shen Zechuan through the dim light. Shen Zechuan’s back was straight; when he turned slightly, the hanging beads swayed right in front of his nose.
The palace maids all lowered their heads and retreated respectfully.
Shen Zechuan’s fingers were lightly picking up the folding fan on the table. The jade bead on his right ear caught a faint glint of light. He had recently caught a bit of a cold, spoke with a nasal tone, and looked sleepy, as if he might fall asleep at any moment.
“At the hour of Zi dispersal,” Shen Zechuan said, tossing the time tablet onto the table, “Next is the Silver Dragon display. Everyone will gather in front of Cangyun Pavilion to watch the Fire Tree paying homage to the hall pavilion. Send word in advance—have them bring warm clothing. Don’t let it be like last year.”
Old officials couldn’t handle the cold; after watching the Silver Dragon, they didn’t even make it to the hall pavilion and half of them collapsed.
“Prepare hot ginger tea in the side hall,” Shen Zechuan thought for a moment, “Thoughtfulness is valuable.”
“Your Majesty is considerate,” the eunuch holding the time tablet said, “Heavenly grace is vast.”
“In past years, when Xun’er was young, he always followed behind his elder brother. This year won’t do that,” Shen Zechuan said. “Let him stand in front.”
The eunuch understood the implication and quickly agreed.
Xiao Chiye walked to Shen Zechuan’s side and said, “He is still a student of Chengfeng. He cannot surpass that level of etiquette.”
“To surpass it is what makes it etiquette,” Shen Zechuan said, tilting his folding fan and leaning against Xiao Chiye’s arm. “Chengfeng is a teacher, a master. Respect has already been given in ordinary times. Now it should be.”
The old matron over there urged again, and Xiao Chiye put on his outer robe. The belt was hard to fasten; Shen Zechuan helped him. In that posture, Xiao Chiye leaned in and kissed Shen Zechuan against the hanging beads.
No one noticed.
Tantai Hu had just had a son and was overjoyed, talking about it to anyone he saw. He asked Fei Sheng, “When are you getting married?”
Fei Sheng, feeling envious inside but stubborn on the outside, said, “No prospects yet. I’m going to marry ten or eight wives.”
Tantai Hu then turned to Yu Xiaozai: “When are you getting married?”
“Why are you rushing me?” Yu Xiaozai sipped his wine.
Tantai Hu, full of parenting advice with nowhere to put it, got so stifled he stood up and wandered around. He saw Gao Zhongxiong and hurriedly asked, “You—”
Qi Zhuyin walked in. Tantai Hu quickly saluted. She removed her cloak and said, “Double happiness, good things. I’ll make up a gift for you later.”
Tantai Hu scratched his head and asked, “Great Marshal, double happiness?”
Hua Xiangyi behind her laughed and said to Qi Zhuyin, “Explain it to him properly.”
The two of them standing together made even the bright palace firelight dim slightly. Before Hua the Third Miss married out, most people only knew her name; now seeing her true appearance, a newly arrived court official was stunned.
“The Madam was young when widowed,” a minister behind him whispered, “According to Beiting’s meaning, they do not wish her to remarry.”
“She is still so young…” the official murmured, “How could Beiting…?”
His colleague elbowed him, but it was already too late. Qi Zhuyin swept her gaze over and met the official’s eyes directly.
The official’s hand shook, spilling his wine.
Hua Xiangyi took her seat. Qi Zhuyin casually took her handkerchief and wiped the lipstick from the corner of her own lips as she sat down. The official watched the handkerchief slip into Qi Zhuyin’s sleeve pouch, and even Hua Xiangyi’s graceful silhouette was completely blocked by the general.
He felt a sudden sense of loss, unable to grasp what he was feeling, only remembering Qi Zhuyin’s glance.
Today Shen Zechuan had a bland appetite and couldn’t taste the food. His mind kept drifting to the unfinished storybook from this morning—the one Xiao Chiye had only read halfway.
Before the banquet of officials, tributes came from various regions—mostly wild mountain delicacies and simple produce. Nothing too valuable was dared to be sent, fearing punishment. Jiang Qingshan stayed in Juexi as a former minister of the previous dynasty. In the first year of Chunsheng, he was protected by Yao Wenyu and Hua Xiangyi; although his official rank did not change, he was still heavily criticized by literati.
This year, Jiang Qingshan came to attend the banquet, and criticism had lessened. Because this year the Liuzhou port was completed, and the waterways of the Thirteen Cities were connected; Juexi did not flood in spring, and there was no drought in the heat of summer. His achievements were first among all frontier governors.
“How do you want to reward him?” Xiao Chiye had drunk quite a bit, not drunk, just relaxed, speaking to Shen Zechuan with the smell of alcohol.
Shen Zechuan glanced at Jiang Qingshan and said, “He may not accept it.”
“Juexi has succeeded,” Xiao Chiye placed his chopsticks neatly, “He wants to retire.”
Back then, Kong Qiu once tried to flee over the wall but was stopped by Liang Guanshan. He refused to kneel to Shen Zechuan, ultimately removed his official crown and left, claiming himself a former remnant of the Great Zhou, returning home to farm. Yu Xiaozai tried to protect Cen Yu, but Cen Yu, ashamed before Yao Wenyu, dissolved his household and went to raise fish across from Kong Qiu.
“Though this body belongs to the Great Jin, this heart still belongs to the Great Zhou,” Shen Zechuan said with an unhappy expression, “If he wants to leave, let him leave.”
Kong Ling sitting below understood something. When Yu Xiaozai came to toast, he whispered, “Go stand by Wan Xiao. He is going to toast the emperor. Listen carefully.”
Yu Xiaozai, half-drunk, did not dare continue. He was sharp-minded and immediately understood from Kong Ling’s tone.
After three rounds of wine, Shen Zechuan was to distribute rewards according to ritual. When it reached Jiang Qingshan, he knelt and first paid respects to His Majesty, then said, “This minister is of low merit and humble status, not worthy of such heavenly grace. I only have one remaining wish. Now that Juexi is flourishing…”
On the side, Yu Xiaozai abruptly knelt at the timing, as if drunk, and said, “Your Majesty is wise! Wan Xiao’s request is also this minister’s request! The Liuzhou port has been newly established, such scale—Your Majesty’s achievements are truly unmatched through the ages! I request that the waterways be extended to the Ling River, so grain transport time can be reduced in the future.”
After he finished speaking, Shen Zechuan did not respond.
His silence was like ink spreading in water, causing the entire banquet to gradually fall quiet. Everyone knew Jiang Qingshan still had another request, and the atmosphere tightened, fearing Shen Zechuan might suddenly leave in anger.
Jiang Qingshan bowed and said, “Then—”
Yu Xiaozai, under the table, elbowed him hard and forced a smile. “But matters must follow procedure. We should have the inner cabinet draft a memorial. When I entered the capital, I met Wan Xiao. His wife, Lady Liu, heard that His Majesty has recently been unwell and specially fasted and prayed for you in Baisha Temple, and asked me to bring Liuzhou’s gifts.”
Jiang Qingshan immediately understood Yu Xiaozai’s intent upon hearing “Lady Liu.”
Shen Zechuan was a good ruler. Since he dared to use Jiang Qingshan, he had never interfered in Juexi’s civil affairs. That trust was given in full, and it was also respect for Jiang Qingshan. Now that Jiang Qingshan had accomplished his work, he could retire—but only if Shen Zechuan spoke first, because Shen Zechuan was his sovereign. Otherwise, it would look like he treated Shen Zechuan merely as a stepping stone: once the work was done, he would still be a man of the Great Zhou, unwilling to follow Shen Zechuan.
All rulers possess thunderous methods. Shen Zechuan’s “Yanshan Snow” had been sealed away, but he still had blades. Jiang Qingshan was no ordinary minister; he could influence the fate of the pragmatic faction of the old Great Zhou officials.
Shen Zechuan dared to use him—and also dared to kill him.
The atmosphere tightened. Silence fell so heavy one could hear a pin drop.
Xiao Chiye seemed amused and asked casually, “What gift?”
Yu Xiaozai instantly felt relief, then froze again.
That line—he had just made it up.